


Poker Face

by orphan_account



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist
Genre: Gen, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-21
Updated: 2014-01-21
Packaged: 2018-01-09 11:42:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1145548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She should have listened to Madame Christmas. She should have known he would cheat.</p><p>She should never have gotten involved.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Poker Face

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt: "Roy cheats. Riza can't handle it."
> 
> Full prompt available at the end.
> 
> Special thanks to LP's FalconKnightCordelia for the idea.

With the locked door supporting her bowed back, she collapses inward, sliding downwards to the cold, hard ground. Her bent knees hide her face; Black Hayate’s warmth occupies her trembling arms. She swallows heavily. The muscles of her throat burn and sting around the knot.

Footsteps beyond the boundary of the door. Footsteps like a stampede of wildebeests attempting to escape the hyena by stupidly running directly directly into their jaws. Footsteps belonging to a man who deserves to be strangled by the ridiculous bowtie he wears to the subsequent military ball: If that man even entertains the notion that she’ll ever fix his lopsided dress again, she will stand by the punch bowl and laugh at his humiliation.

“ _Lieutenant_ ,” says Mustang, and his voice splinters. But she knows that splinter, the same automatic tone he uses in his tragic speeches, the carefully calibrated misery and precisely punctuated wavering. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think it’d be such a big deal for you, God, I’m sorry.”

For a moment her words escape her entirely to nestle in her lungs. Then she coughs up a select few after all: “At least you’ll always be here for me.”

“That’s exactly what I’m trying to say! Lieutenant, can’t we—”

“Please, sir, I’m trying to talk to the one person I can still trust.”

No response for a moment. She can almost hear the wheels spinning in his head, assuming that he has any space between the transmutation arrays and _very_ important political ‘meetings’ about which he’ll never remember anyway. Black Hayate laps at her chin. She strokes his head soothingly.

Presently Mustang slams his fist against the door: The wood shakes against her shoulder blades. “Dammit, Lieutenant, you’re acting so immature. I never expected this out of _you_ of all people. Aren’t you usually the reasonable adult between us?”

More voices, now. “As if what you did was so reasonable, huh, you giant asshole?” Bless Catalina. _Bless_ Catalina with the force of a thousand money-desperate priests. She’ll have to take the sniper out to lunch sometime as a measure of gratitude.

“Fuck, Musty,” Edward butts in with his characteristically ladylike language, “you fucked up big time. That was so shitty I thought someone’d thrown a port-a-potty in through the window.”

The _frr_ of Havoc’s lighter. “Hey, boss, Lieu, could you two maybe sort it out later? I’ve got a good hand.”

She clutches Black Hayate more tightly. The dog whimpers. “How could we sort it out later?” she whispers, and the conversation outside drops to an absolute silence. “How can I face him, if I know he’ll just cheat again?”

Mustang sighs, the exhalation more of an exasperated growl. “Okay, okay, fine, I’ll take the couch for the rest of the night. Damn, Lieutenant, I had no idea you cared _this_ much about poker.”

**Author's Note:**

> Full prompt: "Roy cheats. Riza can't handle it: She locks herself in her room and refuses to talk to Roy, kudos if you can fit in Black-Hayate. Shyamalan twist: It's nothing but a game of poker."


End file.
